


Aoba and the Chamber of Bad Decisions

by Ahmerst



Category: DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2015-09-02
Packaged: 2018-04-06 20:40:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4235874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ahmerst/pseuds/Ahmerst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Aoba is reminded not to be a good person. Mostly because it leads him into a spiral of bad decisions, the biggest one being helping an escaped convict he’s never met before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

All Aoba wanted was a normal life, something he knew already from experience wasn’t happening anytime soon. The daily affirmation of this came as he left work for the day, ragged shouting and hurrying footsteps greeting him. His pulse spiked at the familiarity of one of the voices, coming closer all too quickly and amplified by a megaphone.

Akushima.

Aoba would take anything over that grim mug, so when a figure rounded the corner nearest to him Aoba didn’t think twice to catch their arm, tugging them toward the open mouth of an alleyway. Aoba didn’t stop to look at the them, to wonder who he was or what he’d done. Chances were he was with Beni Shigure or Dry Juice and had had the nerve to cough wrong or breathe in a somehow offensive way within a hundred light years of Akushima.

“Come on,” Aoba said, eyes set ahead as he pulled harder. “There’s an old shortcut through here.”

Or there had been. 

It was only when he found it that he realized in the years that had elapsed since he last used it that it had been walled off, turned into a dead end that he was now face to face with. Aoba’s heart beat hard in his ears as he took it in, thoughts reeling and calculating with the new obstacle in his way. His hand went to activate Ren for advice, uselessly rummaging through his bag before recalling he’d left Ren at home to defrag during the day.

“Fuck,” Aoba mumbled under his breath, clicking his tongue.

His mind raced back to the times before he’d found himself in a similar situation. What had he done then? Hauling his ass over the fence that divided the alley came to mind, but having long since passed the age of sixteen he didn’t trust his body to complete the task with the same ease it once had.

With heavy footsteps drawing closer, Aoba steeled his nerve as he settled for plan B.

“Okay, you have two options here,” Aoba said to the stranger. “Get caught and hauled off, or go with the flow.”

“The latter option sounds slightly more beneficial,” the stranger said, speaking for the first time.

His voice was a low, smooth thrum, the sound of it warming Aoba’s blood as he grabbed the man, pushing him up against the dead end, the darkness shadowing his face. Aoba could barely make the man’s features out, and what he could see was unfamiliar, not belonging to any Rib member he knew. For the first time, doubt flared in Aoba’s mind. Maybe this wasn’t someone he should have helped.

With no time to second guess himself further, Aoba pulled the tie from his hair free, letting it fan loosely around his shoulders. He brought his arms up around the stranger’s neck, using his own weight to bring the man in closer. Taking a deep breath, Aoba let their foreheads rest together, any semblance of personal space vanishing in an instant as Aoba attempted to hide the man as best he could.

“Sorry,” Aoba mumbled, their lips nearly touching. “Just pretend you’re into it until they’re gone, okay?

The man didn’t act like he was into it. Or that he wasn’t into it. Instead he stayed very still, like an animal too surprised to react as his breath mingled with Aoba’s. As the pounding footsteps and shouts to halt stopped at the mouth of the alley, Aoba shut his eyes tight, adrenaline rushing through his veins, his breathing shallow and raspy.

In the haze of his panic, Aoba brushed his nose against the man’s in a mock kiss, the burn of Akushima’s eyes now on his back. Faintly, he was aware of a subtle sweetness, a warm undertone of cinnamon and mulled cider. He’d heard of someone having their life flash before their eyes preceding death, but mysterious─ although far from unpleasant─ smells was a new one to him.

“Stupid kids,” came Akushima’s hiss at the mouth of the alley. “Don’t think I won’t be coming back for you.”

And with that he was charging off again, roaring new threats into his megaphone as his squad of officers followed in his wake. When at last the echoes of their movement had faded, the sole sounds left the low rumble of sparse traffic and street conversation, Aoba sagged against the man’s chest with relief, adrenaline dulling as he tried to sort out the aftermath.

Which was that he was safe. Or maybe not. With a start Aoba stood up straight, taking a halting step backward, recalling that the person he had shielded was a stranger, and possibly a dangerous one at that.

”So, uh, I guess that‘s it,” Aoba said, coughing to hide how his voice hit a note too high. “Good luck with, y’know, whatever it is.”

“Hardly,” the man said as he stepped forward. “You’re coming with me.”

For the first time, Aoba saw the man clearly. From the deep tone of his skin to the sharpness of his features. His hair was dreaded and dark, the ends faded with red. His eyes were a pewter blue that seemed not to reflect the low lamplight. There was no life in them, no hope. Aoba wasn’t sure he’d seen anything like it before.

He was, however, sure he’d never seen anyone with such broad shoulders and a strong chest before. The guy was built like a brick house and just as tall.

A shiver zipped down Aoba’s spine at the full sight of the man, a mix of fear and excitement flashing through his thoughts. Aoba thinned his lips at the sensation. No. He was past those days, had promised himself that he’d stay out of danger’s way, if only for his grandma’s sake. 

“I really gotta get home,” Aoba said weakly, the excuse embarrassing to his own ears.

“He said he’ll return.”

”Yeah, but you don‘t need to be lugging me around. I mean, you don‘t even know my name. I could be total dead weight.”

The man sighed in the short, drawn way that said there wasn‘t going to be an argument.

”What‘s your name?” he asked.

“Uh, Aoba,” Aoba offered automatically.

“Mink,” the man said in turn. “And now I know your name.”

Mink closed the distance between them in a single step, grabbing Aoba’s arm in much the same was as Aoba had done to him. His grip was vice-like with no room for Aoba to struggle. He didn’t wait for Aoba to protest before he was off again.

Mink maneuvered the alleys as though he knew them well, an assumption Aoba was quickly coming to believe was fact as Mink stopped at the backdoor of a club, waiting only moments before it was opened by a drunk and stumbling couple that hardly spared them a second glance as they through the door.

The inside of the club was cluttered with bodies, the music dulled as voices overrode it. There was a panic to the air, an anxiety that made Aoba’s skin prickle as he tried to pick up lines of conversation. He found himself unable to focus as he was jostled and pulled at once, Mink stopping to trade a few short words with a server, money passing between their hands before they were being led to a private room.

The room was dark and sleek, the furniture leather and the fixtures dim. The bassline of the music thrummed in the walls, but the melodies now were muted and far away. When Aoba went to sit on an expensive looking couch, it was cool to the touch, giving easily under his weight. He eyed a menu that was placed on the coffee table before him, needing a place to look that wasn’t at Mink.

“Order whatever you want,” Mink said, making his way over to the wide window that looked out onto the club floor.

“Why are we were?” Aoba blurted. That definitely wasn’t the name of the drink he was looking at.

“If the authorities come here, everyone’ll run.”

“So you’re just planning to wait them out by hanging around here?” Aoba asked. His left temple ached dully, and he wondered what exactly was in a Dirty Dancer. And a Neck-Wringer. 

“Do you have a better plan?”

“Well, no. I just─ I don’t know,” Aoba mumbled worriedly. “It’s whatever.”

Aoba offhandedly wondered how his night had taken such a quick and dangerous turn. He wanted to sleep, eat, and have a tantrum at once. Of course he’d end of in a bad situation by actually being good. _Of course_. He wondered what the point of being good was when it led to this sort of thing, and wondered what would happen if for once he stopped fighting the current, went along a little more with his desires for once.

And right now his greatest desire was a strong drink.


	2. Chapter 2

Two Neck-Wringers later and a shot of something that tasted a lot like fire, Aoba was less worried about what Mink had done, and more worried about what Mink thought of him. Mink, who had joined him on the couch, his own drink dark and bitter-smelling, lifted a pipe to his lips between sips. The smoke he breathed out was heady and sweet, and Aoba wished he was brave enough to ask for a drag. 

Instead, he was brave enough to blurt out his embarrassment, his tongue loose and warm from alcohol.

“Am I weird? Was that too weird earlier?” he asked. “I mean, I practically kissed you, so that was probably weird. I mean, it’s not that I thought you were into guys, and even I’m not usually into guys, but─”

“I didn’t push you away,” Mink said coolly.

“Yeah, but you didn’t exactly have a choice. I mean, if I tried it now it’d be a whole ‘nother story.”

Mink closed his eyes for a minute, taking a long pull of his pipe, smoke rolling off his lips when he spoke again. “You’d make a terrible psychic.”

Aoba sniffed at the remark, his mind processing it slowly. He hid his lips behind the rim of his glass, drinking it slowly as everything clicked into place, nearly choking as he looked up in surprise. So he’d been wrong to assume Mink was put off by his earlier behavior? Maybe the drink was getting to him, or the tiredness of having been up for... how long, now? Aoba didn’t even want to look at his coil, afraid of the time it would show.

Instead he allowed himself to sidle closer to Mink on the couch, a spark zipping down his spine as their legs came to rest against one another’s. When Aoba glanced at Mink to gauge his reaction, he found Mink’s expression to be impassive. That was better than bad, right? Maybe that was just... how Mink was. Stoic and hard to read, his golden eyes sizing Aoba up before Aoba found himself very suddenly not sitting next to Mink, but on Mink’s lap instead.

“Oh,” Aoba said weakly, his alcohol-fogged mind taking a moment to catch up, mind registering that Mink had been the one to put him there with a swift jerk. Aoba planted his hands on Mink’s shoulders to steady himself, a knee on either side of Mink’s thighs as he resettled his weight.

With the bass thumping through the walls and his blood warming, Aoba leaned in. This time the kiss wasn’t for show as their lips brushed together, Mink’s hands coming to grip Aoba’s hips and tug him closer. Aoba gave a short gasp of surprised that was quickly smothered by another kiss, Mink’s tongue tracing along Aoba’s lower lip.

Aoba sighed into the kiss, his arms winding around Mink’s neck to moor himself. His hips rocked slow and lazy to the beat of the music, tongue sliding against Mink’s as the kiss deepened, his heart skipping three beats before racing fast enough to add an extra four.

“You should have told me this was okay earlier,” Aoba said, embarrassed by the words before they were even out of his mouth. “We could have made that scene more believable.” 

“You seemed shy back there,” Mink responded, his chuckle a deep rumble. 

“Yeah, well, that’s kinda normal when you come face to face with someone running from the police,” Aoba said with a pout, belatedly realizing he still didn’t know why Mink had been on the run. Part of him wanted to ask. A bigger part of him overruled that in favor of not ruining the mood.

Giving into desire was nicer than Aoba remembered. No longer the drowning riptide of his younger years, but now the easy lapping of waves against sand as high tide moved in. Slow but consuming as it crept up on him. He let it overtake him as he rutted against Mink, gasping as teeth found their way to his neck, his instinct to tip his head to give Mink easier access.

But when Mink’s hand slid from Aoba’s hip to the front of his jeans, palming his half-hard dick, it made Aoba jerk hard as a sobering moment hit him.

“Wait, I don’t─ not here,” Aoba said, though he couldn’t help but move against Mink’s palm. “Not when someone could walk in.”

“Oh, so now you have a sense of shame?” Mink asked.

“I mean it,” Aoba said, raising his hands to push his bangs from his eyes. “It’s been ages since we holed up here, I bet they’ve given up looking for you by now.”

Mink regarded him seriously, his hands moving until they were again gripping Aoba’s waist, this time to move him off his lap instead of onto it.

“If that’s what you want,” Mink said, getting to his feet.

Aoba did the same, knocking back the rest of his drink before he stood, moving to follow in Mink’s wake without a word. When they made their way outside of the club, Aoba found comfort in the fact it was still dark out before he recalled that it was always dark out. An eternal night that never stopped in a place where one was meant to eschew all responsibility indulge in what they normally abstained from. It was the sort of night Aoba thought he could get used to.


	3. Chapter 3

By the time they’d found a hotel, Aoba was feeling the rest of his drink. His steps swaying slightly before he decided to latch onto Mink’s arm to better anchor himself. He glanced around the darkened lobby as they entered, the inside nondescript and unremarkable. The teller was hidden behind a tinted glass, money passing from Mink’s hand to the counter only to be replaced with a room key.

Their room had the same lack of charm as the rest of the place, and Aoba paid it no mind as he shrugged off his jacket and toed off his shoes, looking over at Mink to find him still entirely dressed. And watching him closely. Aoba paused with his hands at the hem of his shirt, self consciousness edging into his actions.

“Don’t you want to undress?” Aoba asked.

“Not particularly,” Mink responded. 

Aoba leveled him with a look, taking in what Mink was wearing. It was a lot, he noted. A heavy coat and boots─ and wow, those boots could definitely stay on. The shackles, not so much.

Oh shit, Aoba thought, because suddenly he was realizing that shackles were not everyday accessories and generally belonged to convicts. The broken chains that hung from them didn’t help the image. 

“What did you do?” Aoba asked, the words leaving his mouth before his mind could stop them.

“I settled a score,” Mink said coolly, moving closer. “Does that scare you?”

Aoba paused, his thoughts still muddled with intoxication. Was he scared? No, he decided. Wary, yes, but the cold bite of fear was nowhere to be found. Far greater was the need he still had, his blood hot and body aching for the satisfaction he’d denied himself at the club. Shaking his head in answer, Aoba pulled his shirt over his head.

The journey to the bed was so short that Aoba didn’t entirely recall it, his body hitting the mattress with a soft sound as his hair spilled across the pillow. The mattress dipped a second time as Mink’s weight was added, his hands coming to rest on Aoba’s jeans, tugging them off along with his underwear with a hurriedness that Aoba hadn’t expected. 

When they kissed again, Aoba’s reservations burned away. It was all consuming, open mouthed and overwhelming. He panted weakly and whined softly in response as Mink’s hands ran over him, palms rough and calloused. Aoba could do nothing but try to catch his breath as Mink’s kisses began to trail along his jaw and to the crook of his neck, more tongue and teeth than tenderness.

When Mink bit into the junction of Aoba’s neck, Aoba’s entire body gave a surprised jerk. Not from the pressure, the shock of pleasure-pain of teeth sinking into skin, but from the slickened finger that pressed inside him smoothly.

“Christ,” Aoba mumbled weakly, lashes fluttering as Mink’s finger crooked. 

“Too much?” Mink asked, not unkindly.

Aoba shook his head, his bangs already matted to his forehead with sweat. “Not enough,” he insisted.

It was the second finger that was nearly too much, stretching him to where his entire body tensed, unsure of what to do, how to react. He settled on a tentative rhythm, rocking in time with the movement of Mink’s fingers, heat settling in his stomach as his cock twitched in response, precum beading at the tip.

He’d nearly adjusted when Mink pulled his fingers away and leaned back, the emptiness a stark contrast to the fullness Aoba had begun to enjoy. A weak, protesting whine left his throat in response, fingers uselessly clutching at the sheets beneath him as his gaze focused on the ceiling. He knew what was to come, and his nerves lit with both excitement and trepidation.

Aoba’s breath caught when Mink’s rough hand hoisted his leg up to rest over his shoulder for leverage, the suddenness of the movement a short-lived distraction before Mink was sinking into Aoba. Two fingers had been a lot, but this was more. Thicker and warmer, Aoba found his breathing shallowing from the aching pressure.

He wondered vaguely where Mink had gotten lube, let alone used it. But it was hard to think around Mink. That much had been obvious the second they met. It only got more difficult as Mink seated himself to the hilt once Aoba thought he was at breaking point, his body reflexively tightening at the intrusion.

The first thrust was frustratingly slow, and it made irritation flare for a moment behind Aoba’s eyes.

“Don’t start playing nice,” Aoba said, the voice that came out of his mouth not entirely familiar even to himself. “Just fuck me already.”

Aoba hadn’t spent his entire night making the worst possible decisions to get a sappy and sweet romp that would be straight out of a Harlequin romance novel. Every nerve in his body was wanting more, now, and hard.

Mink was quick to oblige, the gentleness of his movements fading as his grip sank into Aoba’s thigh, his next thrust merciless as it pulled a sharp cry from Aoba’s throat. The pace Mink set was animalistic and needy, driven by instinct more than emotion, unrelenting and fast. Aoba’s back arched in response, his toes curling as he clamped down around Mink with each movement.

“Fuck,” Aoba cried out as Mink fucked him into the mattress, the bed bumping against the wall in time to their movements. “Could you just─ _just_ ─”

“Come again?” Mink asked, his voice touched with smugness.

“Harder,” Aoba managed to gasp out. “Fuck me harder.”

Mink’s grip became bruising as he obliged Aoba, his free hand finding it’s way to Aoba’s cock, his touch surprisingly gentle in comparison to the rest of his actions. Aoba let out a choked whimper as he bucked against Mink’s palm only to sink back to meet his thrust. The back and forth was blissfully perfect, each nerve in his body alight with pleasure, the build up nearly at its peak.

Aoba’s entire body tensed as he came, cum striping his stomach and Mink’s hand. He shuddered hard as he rode out his orgasm, overstimulated and raw as Mink pounded into him a final few times before he slowed, spilling into Aoba with a few slow, deep thrusts. Mink’s hold on Aoba’s thigh slackened as he went soft, pulling out of Aoba with a slick noise.

With the afterglow settling into his bones, Aoba rolled onto his side, lids lowering with exhaustion as he breathing became even, the thud of his heart lessening. God, that was good. Really good. With white streaking his skin and sweat beaded on his body, he was too exhausted and sated to care, opting instead to let his weariness take him.

He nodded in and out, never entirely asleep nor truly awake, barely noticing when Mink lay beside him, silent and observant. What Aoba did come to notice, what pulled him from slipping into sleep, was when he found himself being lifted from the bed, strong arms under him as goosebumps prickled across his skin, unable to begin gathering his bearings until he found himself being carefully set down in the bathroom as Mink began to run the taps. 

“Right,” Aoba mumbled, pushing his sweat-matted bangs from his eyes. “We should wash up.”

Mink’s response was a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat as the water began to steam. Aoba watched with the dawning realization that Mink’s jacket was gone now. And his shirt. And his pants. All that remained was the heavy shackles the encircled his wrists and neck, the latter more noticeable now that his hair was pulled back.

Now Aoba could see all of him, the dark tones of his skin, the taut muscles that flexed as he moved. There was more to him than that, his skin dotted and marked with scars Aoba couldn’t identify. They didn’t have the jagged lines left by knives or the twisted bloom of burns. Surgeries, Aoba figured. That had to be it.

Staring was impolite, but it didn’t stop Aoba. It wasn’t technically staring, Aoba told himself. More like well-intentioned ogling. It was hard not to when someone had a body like Mink’s.

“Get in,” Mink said eventually, breaking Aoba away from a few of the less than pure thoughts that had started to crop up in his mind.

Aoba stood in response, his legs jellied and weak, a trick of cum sliding down his inner thigh as the stepped into the hissing water of the shower, sighing as his body relaxed under the stream. Mink soon joined him, and even in his sleepy, sobering state Aoba was keenly aware of how tall and imposing his was. 

Expecting nothing more than a rudimentary rinse off, Aoba was squeezing shampoo into his palm when Mink’s soapy hands came up from behind, running along Aoba’s chest and causing him to jump. It was unexpected, but it certainly wasn’t bad, Aoba decided as he let his eyes close, squirming slightly under Mink’s touch.

He forgot about washing his hair, he forgot about washing himself, he forgot to have any sense of shame as Mink’s hands ran over him. It started small, palms brushing against his chest and along his stomach, thumbing hip bones and gently grasping his thighs. Aoba moaned weakly as his body unwound, moaning when Mink’s slippery hand began to pump his hardening cock.

“More,” Aoba rasped, rolling his hips up. “I want more than this.”

That was how he found himself pinned against the cool shower tiles, legs held up in Mink’s arms, his thick cock penetrating Aoba with almost embarrassing ease. The rest went by Aoba in a twilight state of exhaustion and emotion, his arms wrapping around Mink’s neck to anchor himself.

The second time they fucked was no less rough and needy as the first time, Aoba’s cries echoing in the shower. He found himself unable to match Mink’s pace, breathless and weak as his cock was trapped between his stomach and Mink’s, the only friction allowed to it caused by Mink’s thrusts. 

The build up this time came faster than Aoba expected, his already sensitive body hyper responsive to every movement, his cry weak and wordless when he came. His blood thrummed and his grip loosened as Mink continued fucking him against the wall, the combination of hot steam and orgasm making his thoughts spin until Mink at last stilled, cock twitching as he came inside Aoba for a second time. 

When he was set back on his feet, Aoba wasn’t sure he could stand. He braced a hand against the tile, nearly sinking to the floor before Mink’s arm caught him, taking most of his weight. The rest of the shower passed in a fog of weariness, allowing Mink to wash the rest of him, whimpering tiredly as fingers slid into him again, easing out the remaining cum.

Aoba mumbled soft thanks when Mink helped him out of the shower, dutifully drying him off before carrying Aoba back to bed. The second his body hit the mattress was absolute bliss, the sheets cool against his skin, the covers a comforting weight as they were pulled over him. Sleepiness dulling any sense of embarrassment, Aoba wriggled close to Mink as he lay down as well, nuzzling into his side as sleep finally overtook him.


	4. Chapter 4

It wasn’t morning that woke Aoba, but the shift and mumble of Mink beside him. Aoba tried to ignore it at first, still on the pleasant precipice that wasn’t quite wakefulness, his desire to slip away again greater than any other need. But then he heard Mink speak again, louder this time but no less easy to understand.

The longer Aoba listened, the more sure he was that Mink’s words were less sleeptalk nonsense, and instead another language. He picked up on few words, his mind searching for their meaning. English? He thought it must be English. If only he’d actually paid attention in class, he might have an idea of what was going on.

From Mink’s uneasy tone and the way he shifted restlessly, Aoba knew it to be a nightmare. He eased himself up onto his elbow, glancing down to make out the stressed features of Mink’s face in the dark. It was with utmost gentility that Aoba brought his hand up to cup Mink’s cheek, thumbing his skin gently.

“Hey,” Aoba mumbled. “You’re okay, alright? Whatever’s going on in that noggin is just... not real, so don’t worry about it.”

The furrow to Mink’s brow lessened, but it didn’t fade. His lips twitched in a momentary grimace, shoulders tensing for one, two, three seconds before sloping again. Aoba continued to thumb his skin, murmuring what comforting words came to mind until the uneasiness ebbed from Mink’s expression and his speaking stopped. Only then did Aoba let himself fall asleep again, this time tucked close to Mink’s side, an arm hefted over his chest.

\---

When Aoba next woke, it was with a pleasantly sore body and an unpleasantly dry mouth. As he raised a hand to rub sleep from his eyes, he looked up to find Mink already awake, a glass of water in his hand.

“Thirsty?” Mink asked, handing it to Aoba before he could answer. 

“Don’t you know it,” Aoba croaked, gulping down the contents of the glass before setting it on the bedside table.

He let his head hit the pillow again with a thud, taking a deep breath as he continued to watch Mink. There was something about the way he sat, unmoving and silent, that made Aoba curious as to what was going through his head. Escape, Aoba figured. Akushima would be out on the streets yet again, and the only way to elude him was to leave Midorijima entirely. 

Aoba wondered what to say to Mink about it. Good luck? See you later? It’d been so long since his last one night stand he’d forgotten how the morning was supposed to go. Awkward was the sole trend he could recall, and this was certainly traveling that path. Seeming to sense Aoba’s eyes on him─ or the uncomfortable atmosphere, Mink turned to meet Aoba’s gaze.

His eyes were so much kinder than Aoba recalled, gold and soft as they studied him. When he brought a hand up to cup Aoba’s face in much the same way Aoba had done for him, Aoba leaned into his touch, never breaking eye contact. He liked this, he wanted it to last. It was futile from the start, but that didn’t mean he was going to give it up easily.

So when Mink went to pull his hand away, Aoba caught his wrist. He thumbed Mink’s pulse and tugged him closer, smiled when Mink shifted and pulled the covers over the both of them, their lips brushing together with a familiar ease that made Aoba’s chest ache. This time was slower, more intimate than before. Like they weren’t strangers to one another, like they wouldn’t be parting soon.

Aoba’s gasps were quiet, his moans drawn out as they began to move together. He wrapped his legs around Mink’s waist to pull him closer, slid his arms around Mink’s neck, their foreheads resting together as Mink’s hips rolled in a steady rhythm. Aoba stopped worrying about who Mink was or what he’d done as they moved, instead taking in everything Mink gave him, holding onto each second until he was hitting his peak, grip on Mink tightening and back arching as he came.

The afterglow was sweet and sleepy, Aoba panting lightly as Mink pulled away, his dark skin barely beaded with sweat, his cheeks colored with heat. 

“Thank you,” Aoba said.

He wasn’t entirely sure for what. For the sex? No, it was more than that. Thanks for giving Aoba the opportunity to let go for once in his life, to give into the desires that lurked in the back of his mind, eager for a way out. Not to mention thanks for not leaving him to deal with Akushima alone.

“I could say the same to you,” Mink said, his legs resting over the side of the bed, elbows balanced on his knees. When he reached for Aoba again, it was to tug the covers over his bare shoulders. “And go back to sleep.”

Aoba didn’t question the command, snuggling deeper into the sheets, sated and warm, quick to drift off.

His sleep wasn’t deep. He surfaced on occasion, hearing the sounds of Mink moving about. The rattle and clink of metal shackles, the rustle of fabric. Aoba listened for Mink to leave. For the sound of his heavy boots and the turning knob of the door and his following exit, but it didn’t come. Instead the mattress sank with his weight as he sat beside Aoba.

An electric shiver ran down Aoba’s spine as Mink took a lock of hair in his hand, touch feather-light, nearly comical in its gentility when Aoba thought of what those hands must have done to far less fortunate people. The moment was short lived as Mink let Aoba’s hair go, his sigh somber as he stood again. The next weight Aoba registered was that of a heavy cover being settled over him, the comfort of it all it took to send Aoba back to sleep.

He was alone when he next woke. He knew it not from looking around the hotel room, but from the change in the atmosphere, the quiet of it. A stillness that hadn’t been there when Mink was with him. All that Aoba had of Mink now was a dark coat that had been laid over him. That, and the broken shackles that were on the bedside table. A pang of loss echoed in Aoba’s chest as he forced himself to stand, stretching languidly before checking the time on his coil.

There was a barrage of missed calls and texts waiting for him, and he winced at the thought of responding to them. It was time to head back to real life, and after one night away from it, he wasn’t eager to do so.

\----

“Look, all I’m saying is this doesn’t seem right,” Koujaku said brusquely, one hand holding his half-empty drink as the other impatiently tapped against the bar counter. He seemed angry a lot these days, and Aoba wondered to what lengths it would go.

“Why? What’s so wrong with me wanting to get away for a bit?” Aoba asked, rifling through his bag to make sure his ticket was still there. He found it tucked snugly against Ren’s sleeping body. One way, no return flight. The departure date was tomorrow. “You left the island before, I don’t see what’s so bad now that I want to explore a little.”

“That was─ that was very different, Aoba. I was taken away. You’re just running.”

“I’m not running from anything,” Aoba scoffed. “And even if I was, could you blame me?”

Koujaku didn’t answer, a harsh breath passing through his pursed lips before he downed the rest of his drink and signaled to Mizuki for another. Ever since the murder of Toue and the consequent investigation and reveal of what he’d been planning, the island had been in an uproar. When the face of the murderer flashed on the screen with each newscast, Aoba’s heart clenched with a desperate need to go back to their brief encounter.

“This is too fishy,” Koujaku finally said. His tone was lower, more sedate than before. “Ever since you went missing that one night, you’ve been different. I wish you’d tell me what happened.”

“Spending a night out isn’t the same as going missing,” Aoba said quickly. “Not to mention I’ve already told you a million times, nothing happened.”

While that was far from the truth, Aoba hardly wanted to explain what he’d done, least of all to Koujaku. He knew it wasn’t right to keep his true intentions for leaving from everyone, to admit that he was going to search for someone he’d met only for a night, and a murderer at that, but to own up would mean Koujaku entering his suffocating mother hen mode.

Plus, Aoba reasoned as he checked his reflection in his own empty glass, he wasn’t _that_ different. If anything, he was more like his old self. At least that was what Mizuki had said, his smile rueful as he admitted it. Aoba was less straight laced and more spirited, his eyes brighter, almost golden with how alive they were. The headaches had lessened now, a slow seep instead of the painful throb they’d been before.

More and more Aoba found himself listening less to his grandma, to friends, even to Ren. Their well meaning advice and support had become heavy on his shoulders, now more of a restraint than anything. He’d grown tired of the daily grind, of the normal life he’d longed for before that lead him nowhere and left him tired and empty at the end of the day.

Now he wanted to act on desire, to give into the instincts he’d quashed down for so many years.

And those instincts were telling him to search for Mink.


End file.
